The Fatal Conflict (GBS2G7) (Round 4: The Huntsman's Garden)
07-17-2010, 10:09 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Lankie.
Amongst a void of boundless black, there lies an infinite amount of cathedrals. Each one as beautiful as the last, each one a monument to the life and death of all things, they float in the ether, silently.
Except one. In the centre amongst these immaculate creations lies one cathedral most stunning of them all, a crowning symphony which governs the constant of all life; death. The silence of this sacred place has been sullied by the echo of cold steel clashing together.
Two silhouettes find themselves locked in combat. One of which is impossible to describe; a constant shifting of perspective and appearance made its profile unattainable, the only thing recognisable being its brilliant white robe and an old farmer’s scythe. The other shadow, curiously, belonged to a man, he wore dark leather clothing and a blood red cloak, wielding a sword stained scarlet with the blood of a thousand men. He emanated a feeling of hate, while a wide grin plastered his face.
Both beings clashed with the ferocity of exploding stars. Both being a seemingly even match for one another. “Insolent man.” Spoke the robed being, his voice fluctuating as much as his appearance was. “I am The Redeemer. The Grim Reaper. Death. There is nothing a mere man can do to harm me.” The man took a step back from the fight, he tilted his head back and simply laughed, his cackle cut through both The Redeemer and the cathedral, filling the void with his hateful voice.
“A Man I may be.” He slumped his head back facing The Redeemer, bearing his teeth in an over exaggerated manner. The Man moved with swiftness unlike anything seen, a single strike was all it took to knock Death back and launch is trademark scythe spinning through the air. The Redeemer’s features had finally settled on that of a wizened old man, a look of bemusement on his face. “But mere! No, no no! My good friend, I am quite the opposite.”
“You fool!” The Redeemer shouted as he backed into the stone throne of the cathedral. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?! Without me, there will be no organisation over death! The entire Cosmos would descend into Chaos!”
The man closed his eyes and raised his empty hand, seemingly gesturing him to stop his talking. This was not the case as pulsating crimson glyphs surrounded his palm he opened his eyes, showcasing glowing red eyes and a wild psychotic grin. “I don’t care!”
“N-no! Thi-This can’t be! This is impossi-“
The Redeemer never got to finish his panic ridden sentence, as he was enveloped by an aurora of pure energy and will power. When The Man was finished there was nothing but his ashen robe left.
“This proves it.” The Man says, sheathing his blood stained blade. “I am the greatest!” He threw his arms up in the air in victory and giggled madly. “I am the strongest! The most skilled! The epitome of Humanity! No, of ALL LIFE!” He threw the pale robe from the stone throne and placed himself there like some twisted king. “Not even Death himself could silence me.” He clicked his fingers, in its place a tome appeared in a poof of smoke, his other hand produced a quill, The Man’s smile broadened. “The rules of Death are at my whim! Ultimate power in my grasp! I couldn’t think of a better person than myself to rule all things!” He brought his quill down to the ancient book.
“Kindly halt.” The Man froze in position and twisted his head to the side. There he saw what looked like another man, adorning an almost shining white mask and a suit which showcased a universe. The man could only ask one question. “Why?”
“Many reasons.” The Prestidigitator began pacing slowly across the seated Man. “Reasons that I care not to enlighten to a nobody like you.” He paused to pull an elegant wine glass from nowhere, he swirled the burgundy contents within. “Nether the less, the previous Redeemer spoke truth. You cannot alter the rules of death. It will, at the very least, ruin plans for me and a few others.”
The Man cared not about this Grand Master’s rambling what he did care was of two words it said. “Nobody? Cannot?” He forced out a laugh. “Then allow this ‘nobody’ to show what he can do! Besides, rules are meant to be broken!” The man raised his quill as if to deal a final blow to an enemy. “Wait.” The Man gave an insane smile, “Do I look like a waiter!? Hah hah hah!” The Man brought the plume down to the book at an alarming speed.
“What if I told you there was a game?” The Prestidigitator’s voice lost its usual cool demeanour as an air of urgency crept into it. The Man paused mere millimetres away from the aged paper of the volume. “…Go on.” “Eight contestants, seven rounds, a fight to the death across the Multiverse.” The Man stared into the shaded voids of where The Prestidigitator’s eyes should be; he contemplated it for a little while, the tension made it seem a much longer period of time. Finally, The Man slammed the book shut and reapplied his psychotic grin. “Sure! That sounds like something I could do! Sounds fun!”
The Prestidigitator returned to a more relaxed performance. “Excellent. I’m sure a Man of your talents can find eight souls for such an occasion. You require a title.” The Man stood from his throne and gave lacklustre wave towards the Grand Master. “Yeah. Whatever. I’ll do that.” The Prestidigitator returned to his Phenomenal Fracas, content that he managed to avert catastrophe, for now. The Man walked to the middle of the hallowed hall of the cathedral.
He gave a small chortle as he stamped on the floor, a huge hole opened up, leading down to what seemed like an endless abyss. “Alright afterlife!” The man produced a fishing rod out of nowhere and threw the line down the hole. “Let’s see what souls you got for me! The Redeemer’s coming for you! We’re gonna have ourselves Fatal Conflict!”
![[Image: fatalconflictpic.png]](https://i719.photobucket.com/albums/ww198/Lankie97/fatalconflictpic.png)
Grand Battle, season two, round seven is a go go! I'll outline the basics for people who somehow don't know what this is. Eight players, eight characters, seven rounds, each round you'll all be thrown into a battle to the death with each over in a colourful environment. The person who has the most ineffective writing in the round will be the one who dies.
Reserves will last for 2-3 hours, no chain reserves allowed!
If you want some more in-depth rules then I suggest you mosey down to the original Grand Battle to get yourself a little more acquainted.
CHARACTER SUBMISSION FORM:
Fill in this form if you want in! I'm lenient with what characters you can have. However you must abide by this one rule
YOUR CHARACTER HAS TO BE DEAD.
The Redeemer is, after all picking his combatants from the multiverse's many afterlives. Other than that, simply fill this in! [img]images/smilies/icon_biggrin.gif[/img]
Name: The name your character.
Gender: Male, Female, other, (although if it IS other than please provide an appropriate pronoun for it)
Font colour: To differentiate you from all other posts! Red (that is #FF0000) is taken but anything else is fair game. Background colours are acceptable too, just make sure the font is readable in the end of the day!
Race: The species of your character. This being a Grand Battle, very nearly anything goes.
Weapon: What is your character armed with, you can leave this blank if you want.
Abilities: Simply, what can they do? What skills do they have? What makes them special? I would advise on not making your character too overpowered though.
Description: How do they act? What do they look like? All that jazz. You're are welcome to provide a picture if you want aswell!
Biography: What's their history? How did they die?
THE PLAYERS!
1. Bellona Achillia - Eversist - #FF5500
2. Luron Timerius - Kaitostrike - #008000
3. Doctor Kaja Lorrden - Ixcalibur - #408080
4. Zachariah Shaw - Sruixan - #404072
5. Laura Scourge - Piester - #FF0000, Black background
6. Simphonia - MalkyTop - #000000, White background
7. Kargrek Strongarm - SleepingOrange - #000040
8. Scott Williams - Pinary - #004080
Amongst a void of boundless black, there lies an infinite amount of cathedrals. Each one as beautiful as the last, each one a monument to the life and death of all things, they float in the ether, silently.
Except one. In the centre amongst these immaculate creations lies one cathedral most stunning of them all, a crowning symphony which governs the constant of all life; death. The silence of this sacred place has been sullied by the echo of cold steel clashing together.
Two silhouettes find themselves locked in combat. One of which is impossible to describe; a constant shifting of perspective and appearance made its profile unattainable, the only thing recognisable being its brilliant white robe and an old farmer’s scythe. The other shadow, curiously, belonged to a man, he wore dark leather clothing and a blood red cloak, wielding a sword stained scarlet with the blood of a thousand men. He emanated a feeling of hate, while a wide grin plastered his face.
Both beings clashed with the ferocity of exploding stars. Both being a seemingly even match for one another. “Insolent man.” Spoke the robed being, his voice fluctuating as much as his appearance was. “I am The Redeemer. The Grim Reaper. Death. There is nothing a mere man can do to harm me.” The man took a step back from the fight, he tilted his head back and simply laughed, his cackle cut through both The Redeemer and the cathedral, filling the void with his hateful voice.
“A Man I may be.” He slumped his head back facing The Redeemer, bearing his teeth in an over exaggerated manner. The Man moved with swiftness unlike anything seen, a single strike was all it took to knock Death back and launch is trademark scythe spinning through the air. The Redeemer’s features had finally settled on that of a wizened old man, a look of bemusement on his face. “But mere! No, no no! My good friend, I am quite the opposite.”
“You fool!” The Redeemer shouted as he backed into the stone throne of the cathedral. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?! Without me, there will be no organisation over death! The entire Cosmos would descend into Chaos!”
The man closed his eyes and raised his empty hand, seemingly gesturing him to stop his talking. This was not the case as pulsating crimson glyphs surrounded his palm he opened his eyes, showcasing glowing red eyes and a wild psychotic grin. “I don’t care!”
“N-no! Thi-This can’t be! This is impossi-“
The Redeemer never got to finish his panic ridden sentence, as he was enveloped by an aurora of pure energy and will power. When The Man was finished there was nothing but his ashen robe left.
“This proves it.” The Man says, sheathing his blood stained blade. “I am the greatest!” He threw his arms up in the air in victory and giggled madly. “I am the strongest! The most skilled! The epitome of Humanity! No, of ALL LIFE!” He threw the pale robe from the stone throne and placed himself there like some twisted king. “Not even Death himself could silence me.” He clicked his fingers, in its place a tome appeared in a poof of smoke, his other hand produced a quill, The Man’s smile broadened. “The rules of Death are at my whim! Ultimate power in my grasp! I couldn’t think of a better person than myself to rule all things!” He brought his quill down to the ancient book.
“Kindly halt.” The Man froze in position and twisted his head to the side. There he saw what looked like another man, adorning an almost shining white mask and a suit which showcased a universe. The man could only ask one question. “Why?”
“Many reasons.” The Prestidigitator began pacing slowly across the seated Man. “Reasons that I care not to enlighten to a nobody like you.” He paused to pull an elegant wine glass from nowhere, he swirled the burgundy contents within. “Nether the less, the previous Redeemer spoke truth. You cannot alter the rules of death. It will, at the very least, ruin plans for me and a few others.”
The Man cared not about this Grand Master’s rambling what he did care was of two words it said. “Nobody? Cannot?” He forced out a laugh. “Then allow this ‘nobody’ to show what he can do! Besides, rules are meant to be broken!” The man raised his quill as if to deal a final blow to an enemy. “Wait.” The Man gave an insane smile, “Do I look like a waiter!? Hah hah hah!” The Man brought the plume down to the book at an alarming speed.
“What if I told you there was a game?” The Prestidigitator’s voice lost its usual cool demeanour as an air of urgency crept into it. The Man paused mere millimetres away from the aged paper of the volume. “…Go on.” “Eight contestants, seven rounds, a fight to the death across the Multiverse.” The Man stared into the shaded voids of where The Prestidigitator’s eyes should be; he contemplated it for a little while, the tension made it seem a much longer period of time. Finally, The Man slammed the book shut and reapplied his psychotic grin. “Sure! That sounds like something I could do! Sounds fun!”
The Prestidigitator returned to a more relaxed performance. “Excellent. I’m sure a Man of your talents can find eight souls for such an occasion. You require a title.” The Man stood from his throne and gave lacklustre wave towards the Grand Master. “Yeah. Whatever. I’ll do that.” The Prestidigitator returned to his Phenomenal Fracas, content that he managed to avert catastrophe, for now. The Man walked to the middle of the hallowed hall of the cathedral.
He gave a small chortle as he stamped on the floor, a huge hole opened up, leading down to what seemed like an endless abyss. “Alright afterlife!” The man produced a fishing rod out of nowhere and threw the line down the hole. “Let’s see what souls you got for me! The Redeemer’s coming for you! We’re gonna have ourselves Fatal Conflict!”
Reserves will last for 2-3 hours, no chain reserves allowed!
If you want some more in-depth rules then I suggest you mosey down to the original Grand Battle to get yourself a little more acquainted.
CHARACTER SUBMISSION FORM:
Fill in this form if you want in! I'm lenient with what characters you can have. However you must abide by this one rule
YOUR CHARACTER HAS TO BE DEAD.
The Redeemer is, after all picking his combatants from the multiverse's many afterlives. Other than that, simply fill this in! [img]images/smilies/icon_biggrin.gif[/img]
Name: The name your character.
Gender: Male, Female, other, (although if it IS other than please provide an appropriate pronoun for it)
Font colour: To differentiate you from all other posts! Red (that is #FF0000) is taken but anything else is fair game. Background colours are acceptable too, just make sure the font is readable in the end of the day!
Race: The species of your character. This being a Grand Battle, very nearly anything goes.
Weapon: What is your character armed with, you can leave this blank if you want.
Abilities: Simply, what can they do? What skills do they have? What makes them special? I would advise on not making your character too overpowered though.
Description: How do they act? What do they look like? All that jazz. You're are welcome to provide a picture if you want aswell!
Biography: What's their history? How did they die?
THE PLAYERS!
1. Bellona Achillia - Eversist - #FF5500
2. Luron Timerius - Kaitostrike - #008000
3. Doctor Kaja Lorrden - Ixcalibur - #408080
4. Zachariah Shaw - Sruixan - #404072
5. Laura Scourge - Piester - #FF0000, Black background
6. Simphonia - MalkyTop - #000000, White background
7. Kargrek Strongarm - SleepingOrange - #000040
8. Scott Williams - Pinary - #004080